Luna POV
I can feel his gaze burning into me, and I hate it. I hate the way he’s looking at me right now, as if he’s already won—like he’s always had control. I should have known he was waiting outside, waiting for the exact moment I opened the door, and now here he is, standing right in front of me.
“I’d be lying if I said no,” Dante replies, his voice calm but with an underlying edge that sends a shiver down my spine.
I want to tell him to leave, to demand it, but before the words can even form, he steps closer, invading what little space was left between us. His gaze locks onto mine, and I feel trapped. If I just focus on his eyes, I can pretend—pretend that it’s my stalker, not Dante standing here. It’s easier to deal with him as a faceless fantasy, not as the man who I hate with ev
